


Vintage

by LaDemonessa



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 03:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2175951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaDemonessa/pseuds/LaDemonessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Picard and Q share some wine and try to come up with nice things to say to one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vintage

Vintage  
By JA Ingram

Jean Luc Picard looked out from the door of the old caretaker’s cabin, which had  
long since been converted into a guest cottage and sighed. The family home was  
now just a burned out ruin and the vineyard was in the process of being sold to  
some distant cousins of Marie’s. Soon, the Picard way of making wines would be a  
thing of the past.

What could he do? He allowed the door to shut as he walked back over toward the  
fireplace. His long fingers caressed the stone mantle thoughtfully as he gazed  
into the bright flames. His nostrils flared as he breathed in the scent of the  
burning wood. He took his wineglass from the mantle and finished it in a single  
gulp, tossing the empty glass into the fire. The glass made a satisfying crash  
but his expression remained stony. The only way to save the vineyard would be to  
retire from Starfleet and run it the way his brother and father had before him.  
“You can’t run a business from outer space, Jean Luc!” Marie had said. “You  
won’t come back long enough to help bring in the harvest and you won’t take more  
than a casual glance at the winery. We should just go on and sell.”

She was right of course. Like Robert, Marie was always very good at stating the  
obvious. The truth was that Jean Luc Picard was not now, nor would he ever be a  
businessperson. His home was out among the stars…so why then did the thought of  
turning this place over to people who were practically strangers disturb him?

Maybe because all these years he had been running away from home and now that he  
had no home what was there left to run from? His father accused him of being a  
reckless dreamer and his brother had always criticised him for dodging his  
responsibility to the land. He always thought they were stuck in the past,  
relics of a bygone era. Ironic wasn’t it? His own first officer was always  
telling him how his taste in classical music and disdain of the modern novel  
labelled him as horribly old-fashioned. Maybe he was, who could say?

Jean Luc walked across the throw rug and sat at the wooden table still staring  
at the fire. His dinner remained untouched beside him but he didn’t even spare  
it a glance. After tonight, this would no longer be his land. Marie had already  
gone home to her parents with all the Picard family heirlooms that had been  
saved from the fire. All of them except a few bottles of their best vintage in  
the cellar and some scrapbooks and photo albums left to him by Robert and his  
mother.

Picard bent down and reached into a small wooden crate, which sat near his feet.  
Reaching inside he pulled out an old-fashioned photo album; it’s burgundy  
leather finish glowing richly in the low firelight. He opened it up to the first  
page, smiling slightly as he traced the features of his mother. She was holding  
both him and his brother and gazing at them both with a serene expression. His  
father loved to take pictures of them using old-fashioned two-dimensional  
cameras. The album was filled with images from their childhood; Robert’s first  
horse, his own first formal dance with a girl….what was her name? Josephine? No,  
Jolette.

He shut the book with a grimace. He’d come thousands, no—hundreds of thousands  
of miles just to sit at a kitchen table and shepherd the ghosts of his past into  
a bleak oblivion filled with his own regrets.

Ridiculous, really. He could practically hear his brother’s ghost showering him  
with taunts. “What? Feeling sorry for yourself Jean? Why? You never liked the  
place anyway. Get over it.”

Robert always did know how to make a royal ass of himself.

He could either spend the night feeling sorry for himself or he could enjoy his  
last bit of shore leave. Come morning, he’d never stand on this property as  
anything more than a guest, so he’d better make the most of it.

The captain eyed the cellar door before getting up and walking over to it with  
bold, confidant steps. “Time to see how good a vintage you’ve been producing all  
these years, Robert!”

 

Several hours and a few bottles later…

*CRASH*

Picard eyed the growing pile of glass fragments with a great deal of  
satisfaction. “A good bouquet, nice colour consistency, but not exactly what I’d  
call a great burgundy.” He breathed in deeply and slammed his palms on the table  
with a bang. “Next contestant!”

He picked up another bottle and examined the label drunkenly. “2415? Good year  
for Chablis.” He inserted the corkscrew and grinned as it popped out with a  
small noise. Reaching for one of the surviving glasses, he poured some of the  
pale wine, accidentally allowing some of it to slosh over. “Can’t be wasting  
perflecked-*hic*-perfeckedly good wine.” He chuckled and took a deep sip. “Ah!  
Now that is a good year. *urp*”

He snorted and put down the glass precariously before getting to his feet with a  
lurch. “Drunk on wine! You should be ‘shamed of yourself Cap’n!”

The Frenchman stumbled toward a wicker basket near the sofa, too drunk to notice  
the sudden shimmer of light beside the table.

“Greetings, mon capitaine!” Q said with a flourish as he bowed slightly at the  
waist. “I was just in the neighbourhood and I thought…”

The entity paused and blinked in disbelief. “Jean Luc?”

“Yeah?” Picard grunted, unaffected by the alien’s sudden arrival.

“What are you…doing?”

“Taking a piss!” He said as he shuffled his feet and sighed.

“In a trash bin---in the livingroom?” Q appeared quite put off by the idea.

“The head was too far away.” The captain shook the last remaining drops from his  
penis and refastened his fly. "What do you want?”

“I…well…” For once Q appeared speechless and Picard snorted in amusement as he  
stumbled back toward his chair and sat down heavily.

“Whatsa matter? Q got yer tongue? HAH!” He took another gulp of wine before  
pouring himself another glass.

“You’re drunk!” His companion accused.

“No shit?” Picard said sarcastically.

“Is this how you spend all your shore leaves?” Q glared at him with his hands on  
his hips and a disapproving set to his mouth.

“Only the good ones.” Picard gave a small burp and poured a second glass. “Care  
to join me?”

“No.” He sneered. “And I don’t think you should have another drink either.”

“Why are you being such a party pooper, Q?” Picard asked as he took another  
drink. “You’re usually the one drunk on power and wreaking havoc. I’m just  
sitting at home…well, what used to be home, and having a small little drink.”

“Small, little drink? Try half a dozen bottles of small little drinks, Jean  
Luc!” One of the empty bottles appeared in the scowling entities hand.

“You’re exaggerating, besides most of that one spilled.” The human defended,  
“Why do you care anyway?”

“Well…” Q struggled for an answer. “Well, you’re the one who is supposedly  
teaching me all about humanity and such—it doesn’t exactly look good for the  
representative of all mankind to be pissing in the middle of his own livingroom,  
does it?”

“I’m on vacation!” He said loudly. “I can piss where ever I want to when I’m on  
vacation.”

“Listen, Johnny…”

“Go away!” Picard threw the half-full glass at the alien but it passed through  
him harmlessly and crashed against the far wall instead. “Go bother Will Riker!  
Better yet, go bother Ben Sisko. The sonovabitch needs to lighten up anyway.”

“That’s it!” Q snapped his fingers angrily, “Time for you to sober up!”

The human paled and began to swallow convulsively before jumping up and half  
ran/half stumbled toward the wicker trash basket. Falling to his knees, he began  
to retch horribly.

“Oh my,” Q grimaced. “That’s disgusting.”

“Shut *gag* up.” He choked out, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and attempting to  
catch his breath.

Q remained silent and merely watched him with a mixture of amusement and  
disapproval. As the captain glared at the entity, he found himself comparing him  
to his father. He remembered the last time he got drunk on wine in that cabin.  
It was the day after Robert had married Marie. Despite being younger without  
ever so much as kissing her, Jean Luc had convinced himself he was in love with  
the woman who was now his sister-in-law. To sober up his foolish son, his  
father had taken him outside and thrown him into the pig trough. “If you’re  
going to wallow in self-pity Jean, then do it in like company.”

“What a marvellous suggestion.” Q replied and again snapped his fingers.

*OINK*

Suddenly, Picard found himself eye to eye with an unhappy pig and covered with  
substances far too numerous to be merely classified as ‘mud’. As the smell of  
the pen hit him, he began to retch once more, much to the regret of the pig that  
ran away in what was probably disgust. With a flash of light, Q appeared only  
this time he leaned against the rail of the hog pen brushing an imaginary piece  
of dirt from his command uniform. “Happy now?” The entity gave an amused chuckle  
as he addressed the filthy human.

“No.” He gasped as he rose on his hands and knees and pulled himself up before  
walking out the gate toward the small cabin. He walked over to the hose and  
turned it on, spraying himself as he removed his clothing piece by piece until  
he was down to his underwear.

Q allowed himself to admire the still very muscular chest of the human. Jean Luc  
Picard was very well preserved despite being, by human standards, of advanced  
years. He repeated the observation silently as Picard bent over to shut off the  
hose, the white material of his underwear clinging nicely to his tight buttocks.  
Very well preserved indeed.

Shivering in the cold, Picard headed back toward the cabin with short, angry  
strides.

“Sober yet?” Q asked following him closely.

“Unfortunately.” Picard bit out grabbing another bottle and taking a swig of  
wine as he headed up the stairs and into the bedroom.

“What are you doing?” Q threw him a dirty look as he hurried up the stairs  
behind him.

“First, I’m getting dressed then I’m going to get drunk again.” Picard announced  
as he put down the bottle and pulled down the wet underwear, kicking them across  
the floor. He stood in the middle of the room, naked and dripping. “I can’t make  
you leave Q but that doesn’t mean that I have to put up with your high handed  
interference!”

“Keep this up and I’ll start feeling unwelcome.” Q replied in a hurt tone.

“You aren’t ‘welcome’!” Picard picked up a towel from the top of the dresser  
then thought better of it and stalked towards the bathroom. “I’m taking a  
shower, when I get through I want you gone.”

“Sometimes we don’t always get what we want, mon capitaine.” Q replied as he  
leaned on the wall, his arms folded in amusement.

“Tell me about it.” Picard stalked into the small bathroom angrily. A few  
seconds later Q heard the sounds of water splashing and took this as a cue to  
begin his exploration.

Slowly the entity perused the room allowing his ‘human’ eyes to pick out the  
various curiosities that must have made up Jean Luc Picard’s childhood. If he  
chose to he could have all the information he needed with less than a thought,  
but through the years he had learned that sometimes savouring the information  
the way humans did could be far more pleasurable. He allowed his long fingers to  
trail over the cotton quilt on the narrow bed slowly. He smiled a little at the  
quaint patchwork that undoubtedly took the human who created it several days to  
complete. The interlocking rings were made up of red, green, navy, and black  
patterns, some of which appeared to be old clothing. Looking very closely, he  
found that theory correct as he recognised the colours of the first Starfleet  
uniform he had ever seen the captain wear. Whoever made this designed it with a  
great deal of thought and no little amount of devotion. Glancing towards the  
door he lowered himself on the bed and relaxed. He allowed his human eyes to  
explore Picard’s room carefully, pausing his search when he noticed the painting  
of a woman hanging above the old wooden dresser. The artist wasn’t particularly  
skilled, but nonetheless, she was a striking subject. High cheekbones framed by  
short dark hair and laughing brown eyes--even roughly painted she seemed to be  
very elegant if not precisely beautiful. She also seemed very familiar.

“Oh.” Jean Luc emerged from the bathroom one towel draped around his waist and a  
displeased expression as he scrubbed at his upper torso with another. “I was  
hoping you’d be gone.”

“Sorry to disappoint you!” He grinned as he stretched on the bed lazily.

“I’ll bet.” He tossed the towel on a chair as he pulled out some clothing and  
began to dress.

“You’re a lot different here than you are on the Enterprise.” Q’s eyes examined  
the human’s muscular back as he spoke. As time passed, he’d learned to  
appreciate the human form increasingly.

“How so?” Picard asked disinterested as he buttoned up his shirt then sat upon  
the chair to pull on a black pair of hand knit socks.

Q turned on his side and propped his head on his hand; “You seem…less tense.”

“Oh really?” Picard gave him a scathing look. “I certainly don’t feel less  
tense.”

“You know what I mean.” He gave an airy gesture before rising off the mattress.  
“You’re not as stiff as you usually are.”

“Well, I am on vacation—or was until you barged in.” He tugged on his trousers  
and zipped his fly. “Speaking of which, when are you planning on getting the  
hell out of my cabin?”

Q shrugged, “I thought you could show me around a bit first.” He grinned, “After  
all, the only sights I’ve taken in so far is the hog wallow.”

The captain did not appear amused. “Why have the gods decreed that my lot in  
life is to be burdened with an ancient child who has far too much power and not  
enough common sense?”

The entity chose to ignore Picard’s musing and instead gestured toward the  
painting. “Who is that woman? An old lover of yours?”

Picard snorted. “Hardly.”

“A relative?”

“My mother.” Jean Luc glanced at the painting in question. “My brother painted  
it when we were kids.”

“She was a very striking woman.” Q admired.

“Yes, well…” Picard cleared his throat before grabbing up the bottle and heading  
out the door. “I’m going back downstairs.”

Q followed him curiously. “Why do you do that?”

“What?” He asked not turning around.

“Get defensive whenever someone refers to your family?”

Picard snorted and took a swig of wine. “I am not defensive!”

“He said obviously at ease with the world around him…” Q drawled out  
sarcastically.

“Shut up.” Picard grumbled as he padded down the stairs.

Q looked down. “You have very lovely feet.”

Picard paused on the staircase to give him an incredulous look. “Pardon?”

“Your feet.” He pointed at them. “They are very attractive.”

“And what the hell does that mean?”

“It’s a compliment.” Q responded. “I think your feet look nice in those socks.  
Much better than they do in those unattractive Starfleet boots.” Q looked down  
at his own form for a moment and gestured slightly. Suddenly he was in a pair of  
faded jeans similar to the ones worn by the captain and a thick wool sweater. On  
his feet, were a pair of socks that matched Picard’s perfectly. “What do you  
think?”

“About what?” Picard asked.

Q lifted his foot and wiggled his toes as a hint.

“Oh.” Picard shrugged. “Nice socks. Very familiar.”

“And my feet?” Q asked with a raised eyebrow.

Picard appeared at a loss for words as he examined the entity’s foot. Taking a  
swig of wine, he cleared his throat. “They’re very…foot-like.”

“Foot-like?” Q asked, “Is that even a word?”

“What do you want me to say?” Picard snorted. “Look, I don’t want to discuss  
feet, all right?”

“See?” The entity followed him down the stairs; “You’re not a very relaxed  
person, Jean Luc. Not only can’t you take a compliment but you can’t give one  
either.”

“Why are you bothering me?” Picard asked fed up as he set the bottle down on the  
table.

“Because I can.” Q replied. “Now admit you can’t say anything nice about me even  
if you tried.”

“That’s because I don’t like you.” Picard responded sarcastically.

“Yes you do,” Q countered, “you just won’t admit it because you’re repressed.”

“I—you—that’s absurd!” He sputtered.

“You’re repressed,” Q repeated, “that’s why you can’t talk about your family and  
why you can’t admit how much you like me.”

“I’m not repressed. I don’t discuss my family because it’s none of your  
business. Furthermore, the reason I don’t compliment you is because you’ve never  
given me reason to!”

“Well,” Q crossed his arms over his chest, “Now you have a reason.”

“And what would that be?” Picard asked with a scowl.

“I want you to.”

“That’s not a good enough reason to compliment anyone!” The captain ran his hand  
over his head agitatedly, “You can’t just ask for a compliment!”

“Why not?” Q asked curiously.

“It—it’s not…” Picard cleared his throat, “Well…”

“Yes?”

“It’s not polite!” The captain expounded.

“Damn politeness.” Q shrugged, “You aren’t the most polite person I’ve ever met  
and you don’t seem to have suffered for it.”

“Well I’m certainly suffering now!” Picard sat heavily on the chair and poured  
the wine into a glass, drinking hastily.

“Just pay me one compliment.” Q requested stubbornly.

“Fine, if it will shut you up.” Picard looked at him critically. “Okay, as  
annoying as you are…you have a great sense of irony.”

Q blinked in surprise. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“It’s probably the only nice thing anyone’s ever said about you.” He grumbled  
under his breath.

“Don’t spoil the moment, Johnny.” Q replied summoning his own glass and sitting  
across from him. “Now, tell me all about your family.”

“No.”

“I promise I’ll leave after you finish.” Q said.

Picard looked at him critically for a moment. “Fine. What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

“Hah!” Picard took another drink, “I don’t think so.”

“All right, then I want to know why you chose Starfleet instead of staying home  
at the vineyard.”

Picard was silent for a moment. “Can’t you just…I don’t know, wiggle your  
fingers and get all that from my mind?”

“Certainly,” the entity shrugged, “but this is more fun.”

“For you!” The captain sighed, “Okay, well…”

“Wait!” Q snapped his fingers and suddenly they found themselves sitting on the  
couch in front of the fireplace.

“Why did you do that?” Picard asked with a frown.

“Atmosphere. Continue.” Q encouraged.

Picard shrugged, “Not much to say really. I just never liked the place as much  
as my brother did. This is a very traditional area and if I wasn’t going to join  
the family business in some way or take up religious orders then the only thing  
left was a military career.”

“How medieval.” Q drawled as he toyed with the stem of his glass.

Picard shrugged, “It was the way I was raised.”

“I have my doubts about that.” Q replied.

“How so?”

“You always seemed to be more of a rebel than the obedient younger son.” He gave  
the human a penetrating look. “Try again.”

“Who’s telling this, me or you?” Picard asked impatiently.

“Neither of us at the moment.”

“Fine!” Jean Luc stared into the fire stonily, “Believe what you want but I left  
because I didn’t feel the same about the place as everyone else in my family  
did.”

“Everyone, or just your father and brother?” Q asked quietly.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to just rip the information you wanted out  
of my mind?” His mouth was set in a grim line.

“I assure you it was pure speculation on my part.” He said. “I don’t think I was  
that far from the truth though.”

After an extended moment of silence, Picard continued. “My father was a very  
stubborn man.”

“I see you take after him.” Q joked.

“Do you want me to tell this or not?” Picard asked.

“Sorry, continue please.” Q invited.

“Robert, my brother, was far more like my father than I was. They understood one  
another. Robert loved this place…” Jean Luc’s voice grew sad. “The only things  
that mattered to him in life were this vineyard and his family in that order.  
Nothing else ever existed.”

“And you didn’t feel the same.” Q concluded quietly.

Picard took a deep breath and closed his eyes as the smell of burning pine  
tickled his nostrils. “No. I wanted more than that. I wanted the universe.” He  
opened his eyes again but continued to stare into the flames. “The irony is that  
after all the arguments Robert and my father made concerning my military career  
and how dangerous it was, I’m still alive and they’re both dead. The vineyard  
that they both loved so passionately wound up killing them while I was safely  
ensconced in my starship a thousand light years away.”

“How so?” Q asked, choosing not to remark on the fact that Jean Luc was hardly  
in the safest position at the time of his brother’s death. Sometimes discretion,  
at least with this particular human, was the better part of valour.

“My father died from hard work and too much drink and my brother in a fire along  
with my nephew.” He saluted the entity bitterly. “With their deaths, so ended  
the family line. In a way, I died in that fire as well.”

“You’re still here.” Q argued, “You have a respected position aboard the  
Starfleet flagship, you’ve saved countless lives—I’d say you were still very  
much alive.”

“More compliments, Q?” Picard arched an ironic brow. “Today is simply bursting  
with revelations.”

“To paraphrase a certain mortal in my acquaintance, you certainly don’t make it  
easy.”

Picard shrugged. “After I die there will be no more Picards. I’m the last.”

“You could still…” Q began.

Picard cut him off with a shake of his head. “I don’t want children, I never  
have. Maybe it’s time it all ended. Some things,” he paused, “some things are  
meant to end eventually.”

“Like say, resentment? Sibling rivalry?” Q suggested.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning it’s time you let it go, Jean Luc.” Q said with unprecedented  
seriousness. “Why drown yourself in the past? What good will it do?”

For a long time, Picard contemplated the entity’s words. Finally, he spoke  
again. “For an entity who normally rampages through the universe with little  
thought of for the consequences, you’re being abnormally thoughtful today.”

“Oh my, another compliment!” Q chuckled. “Be still my non-existent heart!”

Picard began to chuckle as well and soon the two were laughing together  
uproariously. Picard clapped the alien on the shoulder and they both looked at  
one another smiling widely. Their eyes met and slowly the laughter began to die  
down as their faces moved closer as if on the own accord.

Hesitantly, Picard lifted his hand to his companion’s face, touching it lightly  
and savouring the feel of his smooth warm flesh. “I have another compliment for  
you.”

“Oh?” Q breathed.

“You have nice feet.” He grinned.

Q’s face went blank. “Oh. Thank—“ his response was cut off as the human kissed  
his suddenly.

Q allowed Picard to press the advantage and soon the captain had removed his  
sweater and was kissed his chest and neck with abandon. Grinding their hips  
together, Jean Luc again kissed Q, running his long fingers through the alien’s  
now tousled hair.

“Jean Luc…” Q whispered as he stroked the other man’s bare back.

“Hmm?” he asked as he reached for the waistband of Q’s trousers.

“Are you…lucid?” He groaned as the zipper came down and Picard gripped his  
erection assertively.

“Very.” Picard grinned nibbling his chin.

“Good. I wouldn’t want to be accused of taking advantage of you.” Q moaned as  
his lover expertly stroked the shaft of his penis.

“Taking…?” The captain chuckled and nibbled at the alien’s ear, “Q, in case you  
haven’t noticed, I’m practically raping you.”

“Well, don’t let me detain you further.” Q laughed then gasped as Picard slid  
down his body and continued to pleasure the entity in more delightful and very  
human ways.

An hour or so later…

Picard stoked the top of Q’s head as they lay together on the rug in front of  
the now cooling fire.

“All in all, this has been one of my better homecomings.” Picard said at last.

Q chuckled and kissed him playfully. “That’s nice.”

“So, what now?” Picard asked as he turned to smile into his lover’s eyes.

“Now?” Q shrugged and propped himself up on his elbow. “Now you get dressed for  
the transport back to the Enterprise and I go visit a few friends of mine in the  
Delta Quadrant.”

“Friends?” His eyes narrowed in curiosity, “And who might they be?”

“No one you’d know.” He assured as he kissed his companions neck, nipping  
playfully.

“I’ll bet!” Picard chuckled. “I meant, what do we do about this?”

“Nothing.” Q said.

“Nothing?” Picard repeated.

“No, why do we need to do anything?” Q replied. “You like me, I like you, we  
seem to have a great deal of chemistry, so why not just continue as we are?”

“No promises of undying devotion? No litany of how we’ll spend eternity in one  
another’s arms?” Jean Luc gave him a lopsided grin.

Q snorted. “Not our style!”

“Well, I like this relationship already.” Picard lay back and smiled.

“We’ll take it one day at a time.” Q said leaning over him.

“Sounds good to me. One day at a time.” Jean Luc closed his eyes, preparing to  
sleep until he heard the entity’s next words.

“Of course, your concept of a day and mine are completely…”

“Q!”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

He grinned and settled back down. “I love it when you get all tender and  
*MMMPH*”

The next few moments were spent in blissful silence, much to the satisfaction of  
both parties.

 

The End

\--


End file.
